


You and I

by DeadLoaf, Smosh (DeadLoaf)



Series: Shaymien's Melodies [1]
Category: Smosh
Genre: Alternate Universe - Drag, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Damien is soft boi, Fluff, M/M, Mari and Joven brotp, Mentions of Sex, Nostalgia, Shayne is confused boi, Smosh Games as drag queens and kings, Songfic, implied Coze
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-30
Updated: 2019-09-30
Packaged: 2020-11-08 07:22:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20831585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadLoaf/pseuds/DeadLoaf, https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadLoaf/pseuds/Smosh
Summary: Two years ago, Shayne first came back for Holly.Two years later, Shayne returns for Damien.Song: You and I - Lady Gaga





	You and I

**Author's Note:**

> If you happen to have a more extensive knowledge of the world of drag or a drag queen/king yourself, please don't hesitate to point out any mistake or misconception I might have written.
> 
> Also, the pronouns used are deliberate.

Bella Donna still stands proud on the same street.

_‘It’s been two years.’_

Shayne stood in front of the building in a simple shirt and jeans. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, taking in the new and the same time familiar sights and sensations around him. The warm splash of nostalgia flowed throughout his body, azure eyes becoming glassy under the warm glow of the setting sun.

He observed that the building has been expanded and redecorated, looking fancier than when they were just a year-old business. It still exudes its signature atmosphere, casual during the day, and by night, a tasteful arrangement of neon lights that would sure flare to life and give it the nightlife vibe.

There’s a large poster outside showing the night show schedule. He has been staring at it for quite a while, the humid Nebraska air draping like a warm coat. Ignoring the bands and variety shows, his attention went straight to the drag show scheduled every Saturday night, this day being their fourth anniversary special.

The poster teased a surprise performance and the promo picture showed two of their in-house drag queens, one has a straight-cut silver bob and the shorter one, a brunette with long crimped hair. Both eyes lingered on the brunette’s visage, a sense of longing like a heavy rock crashing at the pit of his stomach.

_‘Fuck, I’m going to die today.’_

“Shayne? Is that you?” a woman’s familiar voice stopped Shayne’s futile staring contest. He barely saw the person before a solid slap hit him in the face.

“That’s for ghosting us,” the petite woman crossed her arms, stern faced and dressed in all black, long dark hair swaying in the light breeze.

Fingers lightly touched the stinging area and he winced, ‘_damn that’s gonna hurt for a while’._ Someone would usually retaliate at an unexpected attack, but Shayne smiled instead and pulled her into a hug, “I missed you too, Boze.”

She stiffened at his reaction before caving in, hugging him as tight.

They pulled away, “I probably deserved that.”

“Damn right you do,” she crossed her arms again. “It’s been two years and you’re just standin’ outside? Ever heard of calling, or at least texting? Come on in, the others are preparing for the anniversary special,” she began walking towards the door, combat boots thumping on the cement.

He quickly grabbed her arm, “Boze, is it okay? Isn’t everyone still mad at me?”

She hesitated before meeting Shayne’s inquiring gaze, “I mean, to be honest… yeah, even me. But I don’t know if you know, but Courtney kept tabs on you, and she talks to me about it sometimes when I stay at her place.”

Shayne grumbled, “Of course, she does.”

“So, I kinda get why you didn’t wanna talk, but it was still a shitty thing to do. Most weren't as mad as they used to be when I explained a bit about your situation, but I’m sure you’ll be fine. Wes and Flitz would be happy to see you,” tense shoulders relaxed, hands dropping down to the side.

“Oh, but you might want to be careful around Mari and Joven, especially Joven,” Shayne immediately grimaced, he can already feel a phantom pain in his stomach and ringing in his ears.

Boze laughed at his ridiculous expression and grabbed one muscular arm, pulling the man towards the door and inside the building. “Relax, you’ll be fine, I’m sure Jove – ah, shit.”

Both of them froze as the unmistakable form of Joven approached, the click of heels almost menacing. In Sahara Danger glam, wearing a golden sequin number and a wig cap, he never looked more intimidating. Boze’s laugh turned sheepish as Joven stopped and raised a drawn eyebrow at her.

“Why is he here?” Joven’s tone could freeze a whole lake, dramatic eyeshadows and high arching eyebrows magnifying the piercing glare behind black-rimmed glasses.

“Um…well, uh, he’s an old friend isn’t he? Uh, I think – “

“I want to apologize,” it was not a lie nor a misdirection in any way. Shayne knew better than to beat around the bush when Joven gets this serious. He has no chance against the combined sass of a drag queen and a grumpy old man.

Dark red lips pursed, “Boze, go and change. Justin Saine is the opening act, remember?”

“Oh shoot! Sorry Shayne, I gotta go. See ya during the show,” she shot him a worried look before hurrying off.

Joven remained staring after Boze left, gloved hands on his hips. Cold sweat started dripping down Shayne’s temple from the palpable tension. He may be taller than Joven, but he’s no match to the towering seven-inch heels.

“After two years, Topp? Coming out of nowhere and into my shire, no calls, no texts?”

Shayne couldn’t help a guilty wince, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m not the one you should apologize to. My daughter was the one who was hurt,” Joven snapped.

“I know. I want to talk to him after the show,” Shayne bowed his head. “I don’t care if I have to beg and honestly, I know I deserve much worse, but please let me talk to him.”

“Talk…to him huh?” Joven’s face relaxed from its frown, “All right Topp, I’ll give you a chance. I’ll tell my daughter, but it’s up to him if he agrees. Got that?”

Shayne had a sudden urge to do a heel click.

Bespectacled eyes narrowed, “Normally I should have kicked out you out by now, but you sound pretty serious about apologizing. Don’t make me regret my decision.”

“Yes sir – I-I mean, ma’am!”

“Hmph! The show starts in less than two hours, you might as well take a seat if you’re going to watch,” Joven walked away, no doubt going to the employee residence at the back of the building.

Shayne walked around aimlessly, watching the staff, led by the head organizer Tim, prepare the wide stage and test the lights. He stopped before a familiar table in front. Despite the expansion, they still retained most of their original interior design. The rustic wood and metal circular tables with black matching chairs are still being used, some even looking newly purchased.

But this one table is special for him. He felt for something underneath the table, stifling a laugh when his fingers brushed on a familiar groove in the varnished wood. Shayne can tell without looking that this is indeed the table where he always used to sit, rubbing the ‘S’ he once idly etched with a fork.

* * *

_Watching a live show in a small resto-bar hardly counts as relaxing for Shayne, but the ambiance was cozy and somewhat homey enough that he didn’t bother complaining again. Besides, this is his first time watching a drag show and the regulars seem to have nice stories about it. _

_The lights were dim, music blared from the speakers, and the patrons were enjoying themselves. The tables were small, which was expected from a fairly new establishment, but thankfully he and his four companions were able to fit._

_Shayne was just content sipping whiskey while watching his friends and fellow cast mates. Courtney shaking Keith from excitement, Olivia checking the Bella Donna pamphlet every once in a while, and Noah trying to help free Keith. _

_Their attention went back to the stage when the DJ – ‘Lasercorn? What kind of name was that?’ – started hyping up the next performance. Most of the customers started chanting, the following act most likely a crowd favorite._

_The small stage lit up to reveal a petite drag king introduced as Justin Saine seated behind a piano and a very pretty drag queen posing with a microphone named Holly Stiletto. Justin was dressed simply in a white shirt and black trousers, his hair a messier version of Elvis Presley’s. Holly meanwhile looked very feminine with her smokey eyes and dark lip, a black fitted leotard composed of leather straps and buckles that hugged her figure, capped by a long neon green wig flowing down to her thighs._

_“Whoa, Holly and the one before, um…Bunny, look really fishy,” Courtney observed._

_“Fishy?” Shayne asked, taking another sip and glancing at Olivia’s pamphlet, looking for the names._

_“Like they could pass for an actual guy or girl,” she turned her attention back to the stage. “Holly can like, get it. Y’know what I mean? Also, Justin is cute, I wonder what she looks as a girl?”_

_Justin started to play the opening notes and everyone went quiet. Holly began to sing, and the rich nearly-androgynous voice caught Shayne off-guard._

_Somethin’, somethin’ about this place_

_Somethin’, ‘bout lonely nights and my lipstick on your face_

_Somethin’, somethin’ about my cool Nebraska guy_

_Yeah something about, baby, you and I_

_Shayne felt confused and weirdly entranced, the way she moved with the song, her expressions enhanced by her sharp eyeliner and dramatic highlights. The way she danced during the guitar solo provided by the DJ was so fluid, it was provocative but not overly sexual. _

_She walked among the audience as the song neared its end, like a butterfly fluttering from one flower to another. By chance, she reached their table, doing a dramatic twirl as she sang the last line in his direction. Their eyes met and Shayne felt like a carpet just got pulled underneath him._

_And this time I'm not leaving without you_

_He found himself actively looking for her during the next performances, her sharp brown eyes haunting his mind. After the show, the performers joined the customers on the floor. He settled watching her from a distance, half-listening to his friends as they played truth or dare. _

_Sleep was futile back in his apartment. It was conflicting – he felt drawn to Holly, but he’s never felt that way about a guy before. It felt really trippy, Holly looked so much like a woman that he can’t even imagine what she might look like originally as a man._

_‘Maybe I’m just overthinking this?’ there was a dull ache in his chest. _

* * *

Shayne sighed, sitting down on one of the chairs. Looking around, even with the improvements and all the changes, it still feels like he never even left. The Greek columns that decorated the walls, the familiar artworks, DJ Lasercorn testing at his booth, and Ian organizing the glasses and drinks at the bar. He almost felt two years younger again, just worrying about his scripts, joking with the staff, hanging out with his friends… and spending several nights in Damien’s room.

A large well-manicured hand landed on his shoulder. Another queen in a short-sleeved elaborate leather jumpsuit and a pinned silver hair took the seat across him. “Boze did a number on you, huh?”

Shayne snorted, “Yeah, I expected something worse,” a hand touched the swelling cheek. “You look good by the way, Wes.”

“Pfft I don’t look good, I look phenomenal, darling. And it’s Bunny Deville not Wes,” she scoffed before handing over an ice pack that Shayne immediately pressed to his cheek.

“I asked Ian for some ice when Boze mentioned slapping you. Honestly, that woman could take down our biggest bouncer with her hands alone.” Wes, or Bunny, folded her hands on the table, “She planned to do more when you left but thank god Damien and Courtney talked her out of it.”

Shayne chuckled and looked around, “The place looks so much fancier by the way, congrats on your fourth anniversary. Anything new besides the expansion?”

She hummed, one hand cupping her chin, “Well, we hired additional staff to help out Tim – bless him, we have more budget for bigger productions, we added drinks for Ian’s bar, and all that stuff. But I highly doubt you’re interested in that.” Eyes becoming sharp, she crossed her legs, “Holly didn’t show up for four months.”

Shayne’s chest felt like an archery target, “I really messed up, didn’t I?”

Bunny closed her eyes and sighed through her nose, “You bet, hunty. He stuck to day performances and his day job. It was so bad that he refused to even look at any kind of makeup. When we finally convinced him to perform, Boze had to do his makeup for another month.” She opened her eyes and looked at Shayne through grey contact lenses, “He’s doing fine now if you’re curious. You’ll have to ask him yourself if you want to know more. I assume you’ve already talked to the House Mother?”

He nodded, “Yeah, Jo-I mean Sahara saw me just as Boze dragged me inside.”

“Wow, I’m impressed you got off light. You’re lucky she didn’t slap you too or you’d be bleeding from her new nails.”

He shuddered, “Yikes.”

“Yikes is right. Mari’s preparing backstage, but you better watch out after the show. Robin doesn’t appreciate his daughter getting hurt.” more imaginary arrows hit his chest, making him groan loudly into his hands.

They moved on to lighter topics after that, Flitz and Sohinki – or Dame Grande and Venus Larue joining the pair and catching up. Other familiar faces showed up either just to greet or join in small talk.

If some people were more passive-aggressive, Shayne didn’t comment. Nor did he complain when a friendly pat felt heavier, a handshake became constricting, or nails just straight up dug into his skin. He does feel sympathy for his abused shoulder though.

Thirty minutes before the show, the three queens had to excuse themselves to prepare as the doors were opened and customers started to file in. It wasn’t too long before the house was packed.

* * *

_Shayne felt compelled to go back. There was just something about Holly that made him want to know more about her._

_It took three shows before Shayne had the courage to talk to the mesmerizing queen. It took him another two to slip her his number. _

_Before he knew it, Saturday nights were spent at Bella Donna for the next three months, he and Holly together being a common sight after every show. They usually talked over drinks and a light snack, sometimes being joined by the other kings and queens, sometimes Shayne’s friends. They would either sit across one of the tables, the bar, or watch movies in Holly’s room at the back of the building._

_He told her about being an aspiring actor and his current role in a series, which is why he’s in Omaha. He introduced his four closest friends, he shared his dreams, and he shared his hidden interest in literature. Later, he shared his fears, his insecurities, chest feeling lighter after her sincere words. Even mundane stuff such as his favorite order at In ‘N Out, his penchant for screaming, and his favorite video games became part of their conversations._

_She listened intently, and in turn told about herself. She talked about being Holly every Saturday night and living as Damien, also singing every lunch at Bella Donna. His extra job as a leather worker, sometimes creating the drag outfits and props himself. She told about her Drag Mother Sahara and Drag Father Robin. She rambled how many times her stilettos almost broke her ankles, why her makeup is light because of sensitive skin, his favorite books, and his favorite games._

_Shayne honestly didn’t know why he kept coming back, just that the more he learned about Holly – or Damien, the more his interest grew. He felt almost addicted to her presence somehow, a splash of color in the monotony of life. He just can’t seem to explain. _

_He began to take notice of small details as they got closer. How adorable she looks with her glasses, her preference for mocktails, and her tendency to go on occasional nerd rants or rages. _

_‘It’s not love,’ he would tell himself. ‘We’re just friends, that’s all this is,” the dull pain in his chest begged to differ._

_Three months and they were sprawled on Holly’s couch, watching Moulin Rouge, when he looked beside him and realized how close her face was. Holly was JLo that night, the light from the laptop screen made her bronzer and lipstick shimmer, she looked radiant in the dimly lit room. _

_His heart skipped a beat, ‘I want to kiss her.’_

_It was just a spontaneous thought. Shayne blamed it on the bourbon he stupidly chugged a while ago, but he threw caution in the wind and followed through._

_ He woke up in his wrinkled shirt and open pants, lipstick smeared on his lips and neck. A disheveled Holly groaned beside him, hair all over her face. The next times were similar to this. Quick, minimal foreplay, less clothing shed as possible, and more about reaching their release. _

_Shayne was surprisingly all right with that arrangement, he assumed that Holly was too. That way, he can pretend while still figuring out what his confusing thoughts actually mean. She usually wore a dress which helps hide the crotch, he ignored the lack of certain curves and kept his hands on her waist, and his eyes remained on her face._

_His thoughts still bothered him nonetheless._

_They still talked, they still hung out after every show, but they never talked about what they were exactly. Holly didn’t breach the topic, so Shayne did the same. It was like a No Man’s Land for them, he feared what would happen if they decide to step over that boundary._

_Most of his Sunday mornings for the next two months consisted of driving home at 3 AM with messy clothes, glitter, and lipstick. For him, it was a perfect illusion._

_There was just a small detail nagging at the back of his mind – there was almost always a hint of salt whenever they kissed._

_The dull pain remained._

* * *

“ARE YOU READY FOR THE MAIN COURSE?!” Lasercorn’s voice boomed, loud cheers following his question.

A beat started as all but the red dim lights went black. “And now, the six merry murderesses of the Bella Donna County Jail in their rendition of… the Cell Block Tango.” Excited cheers greeted Lasercorn’s husky introduction.

“Pop!” “Six!” “Squish!” “Uh-uh!” “Cicero!” “Lipschitz!”

One by one, a silhouette behind a jail cell gate was shown. Then the melody started and each drag queen was illuminated as they sang their part, dancing behind the gate. The chorus was the same but they changed the monologues for comedic effect.

A person is picked from the audience to sit in a chair on the stage while the queen does her monologue. The pair would then dance together for the chorus before the customer goes back to their seat. Shayne was totally floored at the production and the concept as he watched. _Wow, they really stepped up their game since I was here last._

Sahara Danger played as Liz, pretending to have a cramp as she ‘danced’ and delivered her brand of crude comedy. Venus Larue as Annie was sarcastic and full of deadpan humor, her trademark sleepy eyes selling the whole act. Dame Grande as June was something else, voice on point as she showed off her flexibility and talent in dance, spinning a guy in a complicated dance routine that made him dizzy walking back to his seat.

For Bunny Deville’s role as Hunyak, instead of speaking in Russian, spoke in an exaggerated Russian accent as she clumsily danced ballet like the gentle giant she is. Velma, meanwhile was played by one of the newer drag queens, Tommy or Sheyonce Gloss. She favored innuendo jokes and sang the chorus like a boss with her powerful voice.

Shayne felt his mouth dry and his heartbeat quicken as Holly Stiletto sauntered towards him. Wearing her mid-length crimped brown wig and modified black bandage dress, she pulled him to the stage with a long red bandana. He gulped as Holly sat on his lap before saying Mona’s monologue. She was moving around him like a sultry femme fatale while the audience whistled and laughed, pulling him up and then leading the tango as the chorus hit.

“My room, wait for Mari,” she whispered in his ear before spinning him back to his seat.

He remembered to breathe when the final chorus played, all of the queens aggressively dancing and stomping on their high-heeled boots, most of the audience participating as well. Blue eyes remained on Holly, the constant ache in his chest intensifying and his hands fisted tight. He felt like crying.

* * *

_Almost five months into his ‘something’ with Holly, the progressively conflicting thoughts coupled with work stress, built up and started getting to Shayne. He needed to unwind, he wanted to forget for a while. _

_So, he basically said fuck it the next Saturday night and broke the dam in a flood of whiskey. Wasted, he can recall being carried by Holly and Ian, his back eventually hitting the cushions of a familiar couch._

_Through glazed vision, he silently watched as Holly methodically turned back to Damien after checking on him. Gone was the costume, the paddings, the makeup, and finally the wig. He groggily stood up, startling Damien when he felt a hand on his face._

_Shayne took the sight in, eyes clouded, idly noting that it was the first time he saw Holly as Damien. He treaded his fingers through tousled dark brown hair, his thumb traced the lips still lightly tinted with magenta, and stared deep into those beautiful brown eyes. _

_“Shayne, are you okay?” Damien’s real voice triggered memories he unconsciously suppressed – soft whispers, drawn-out moans, and gasps of his name._

_But Shayne was fascinated while he continued his actions, not hearing the question at all. “You’re gorgeous…” he murmured, a slight slur in his voice. _

_The memories after that were vague at most._

_He remembered being enamored by Damien’s flushed face then pulling him into a sloppy kiss. He mostly remembered sensations - hand running down a toned chest, rubbing heated flesh, tugging on short strands, the mixed flavor of whiskey and a musky essence._

_The morning hit like a road-raging truck, head pounding and a ray of light directly on his eye. The couch was not helping as he heard his bones pop with every stretch while sitting up._

_The sight of Damien, naked and peacefully sleeping, flooded him with several emotions, vastly different from how he would usually feel after their usual ‘romps.’ Seeing Damien’s raw form, the hazy memories of the night, the implications, sent a large wave that cracked the illusion he’s been trying to maintain. The realization of that crack made him put back his clothes and leave the building quickly, driving back and stumbling into his apartment._

_His skin became feverish and he felt very overwhelmed, and when he’s overwhelmed, he has an uncontrollable urge to get away from the cause. It was unhealthy, but frankly, he didn’t care at the moment – he just needed to get away fast._

_He lied on his carpet for the rest of the day, staring at the cracks of paint on the ceiling, ignoring the ringing phone, and wallowing in thoughts. Inside him was a swirl of confusion, regret, guilt, and a tiny part wanting more. What he wanted more, he’s not sure. _

_The pain in his chest was throbbing, his thoughts were becoming more jumbled, and he doesn’t know what to feel. He eventually fell asleep from exhaustion, both physically and mentally._

_He didn’t go to Bella Donna the next Saturday night. And the next after that._

_He felt really bad, but he didn’t want to go through that experience again – fearing what would happen next. Just thinking of his face is causing him pain, what more if he saw them in person? _

_A week before going back to LA, Shayne felt it was proper to at least officially break whatever it is they had, but he did it through text. The act left a bad taste in his mouth for a long time._

_The dull ache worsened._

* * *

The final performance was met with very loud applause and cheers, confetti falling everywhere. The festive mood remained as Lasercorn cranked up the beats and the night continued.

Shayne sat stiff in his chair, idly drumming his fingers on his lap and bracing himself for either a lecture or a beating. A sharp clack made him look behind, Robin Heartz still in his Michael Jackson outfit with an unreadable expression. He wordlessly followed the king to a door backstage leading to a familiar path to the residence.

A pained gasp echoed in the hallway, the unexpected expected punch hitting Shayne square in his gut. He doubled over, moaning in pain.

‘_Thank god I didn’t eat much. But fuck, it still hurts!_’

While waiting for the other to recover, Robin removed his wig, letting long purple hair tumble down to her back. “Since Joven didn’t do anything, he gave me the honor of punching you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You will be,” Mari growled dangerously, “if you break our daughter’s heart again.”

“I promise, this time I won’t,” Shayne said as sincerely as he could.

Mari continued to glare, “Look, we may not be related by blood, but Joven and I truly consider Damien as our own.”

She put her hands in her pockets, exhaling a tired sigh, “If only you knew how terrifying it was for everyone, for us, to look at him so broken, seeing him smile as if he didn’t cry himself to sleep the night before. It was heartbreaking seeing him flinch at his own reflection and hate a part of himself that he used to love and enjoy.”

Mari sniffled and looked close to tears and honestly, Shayne was too. He was about to blurt another apology when Mari cut him off.

“Save your words for him, I’m just here to give you a piece of my mind. I’m sure you still remember where his room is. Go.” Shayne nevertheless apologized again before heading off to the direction of Damien’s room. He knocked hesitantly.

“Come in,” a muffled voice answered.

He opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind him. He was greeted by the sight of Hol-Damien in a black fluffy bathrobe, wig and striking makeup still on.

“Oh, Shayne,” Damien plopped down on his large swivel chair and gestured to the couch. “Why don’t you sit down?”

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as they waited for the other to talk.

Damien hugged his knees close to his body and deliberately avoided the blue-eyed gaze. Shayne’s heart clenched, the way he's trying to make himself smaller, how his hands slightly shook around his knees, as if he’s bracing himself for something terrible. Something terrible that Shayne might do.

_‘Oh fuck, what have I done to you?’ _

Shayne swallowed, trying to find his voice, “Damien, I… I’m really sorry for everything.”

Like an open tap, words continued to flow, “Before everything else, I want you to know that I really loved talking to you, knowing about you, hanging out with everyone here. But I was really selfish, I didn’t consider your feelings at all and I feel like the biggest jerk in the world every time I think about it. I was just so confused and so stressed, I didn’t know what to feel so I just ran away. I spent several years thinking I was straight then suddenly I was into a guy and it was different and it didn’t feel…wrong – _butnotthatitisofcourse_. I know that it sounds like a whole load of bull crap, but please believe me – ”

“I believe you.”

“Y-you do?”

Damien looked at him and rested his chin on top of his knees “I could tell that you were confused, it was obvious when you never once asked to see me as Damien. I’ve met several people who have been through the same, so I understood and kept quiet. Even if it hurt, I kept being Holly whenever you were here to help you adjust.” He hugged himself tighter.

Shayne was puzzled, “But why?”

“Seriously?” Damien laughed humorlessly, “Because I fell for you, you oblivious idiot.”

“Every time we ended up fucking, I always held on to the thought that maybe you’ll eventually get used to being with a guy. That one day, I’ll hear you call me Damien instead of Holly. It tore me up, knowing that you love someone who is technically me, but better for you,” his voice broke and tears started to pool in his eyes.

“I know that I was torturing myself, but I’m also an idiot in love that I didn’t care. I always told myself to be patient, I mostly ran by hope at that point. Then, that night happened…” Shayne looked down in shame, guilt squeezing his heart tight.

“I thought you passed out, so I felt it was okay to dress down. Even though you were drunk, I was excited because it was the first time we did it as myself,” Damien’s lip quivered, his eyes trying to blink away the tears.

“Who knew it was going to be the last time I was ever going to see you?”

A sob escaped and Damien’s tears fell in a continuous stream, ruining his makeup. Shayne was quick to stand and wrap his arms around the prone form. He felt tears soak his shirt as he rubbed circles on the brunet’s back.

“I’m truly sorry and I don’t care how many times I’ll say it. I was a huge coward to avoid you, and you of all people, didn’t deserve a breakup through a lame text.”

“That was a dick move,” Damien quipped between soft sobs.

“Yeah, it really was. God, I was such an ass. I was so overwhelmed during that time that I just wanted to get away from everything. I admit, I was relieved going back home to LA. Then, mundane stuff that I just used to pass by started to remind me of this place, the people here, especially you.”

The sound of sobbing was starting to slow down, “Movies we used to watch, sandals on display, random bouquets. This sounds weird, but I started to see your face with every brown eye I’d see because I can never forget those beautiful eyes.”

Shayne took a step back to look at Damien’s face, his thumb wiping some of the tears. “Your mascara is running.”

Damien set his feet back down to the floor, “It’s fine, I can retouch it if you want.”

Shayne shook his head before reaching for the makeup remover wipes on the nearby vanity. Setting down the wipes on the desk, he took ahold of the brown wig on either side, “May I?” 

Teary brown eyes widened and gave a hesitant nod.

The wig came off and then the wig cap, freeing the messy strands streaked with blue. Shayne’s fingers ran through the silky locks, “Blue suits you well.”

“Uh thanks, I…I just wanted to try a different look,” the words were softly mumbled, barely caught by the other.

Shayne grinned, “Well, as the fabulous Bunny Deville says, you look phenomenal!”

That brought a chuckle out of Damien while Shayne pulled out some wipes and kneeled, gently wiping off the makeup, motions careful especially around the eyes.

“Not to sound cliché, but when I wasn’t acting, I did some ‘soul searching’ or something like that,” Damien raised an inquiring eyebrow. “I talked to myself, my parents, my friends, and even a therapist a couple of times. You could say that I finally came to terms with myself and I realized how horrible I’ve been to you.”

Damien scrunched his nose as the foundation in his neck was being wiped, “I wouldn’t say you were horrible, just… insensitive, I guess?”

“So, horrible then?” Shayne deadpanned then dodged a half-hearted punch. “Anyway, I finished all my acting gigs then I came back here as soon as I could. I didn’t contact anyone because I thought it would be too awkward to call after so long. So I decided that it would be better if you all got angry at me in person.”

A cheeky grin graced Damien’s face, “Let me guess, Boze slapped the hell out of you and either Mari or Joven decked you.”

Shayne moaned pitifully and rubbed the still aching part, “Mari actually, and directly to my gut too. Oh stop laughing,” he was smiling himself.

He took another makeup remover and gave one last overall wipe to remove the remaining shimmers and glitters, “There, that’s the face that I missed.” He threw the used wipes in the trash bin.

Damien's expression turned somber, turning his head to the side, “Are you sure about that? You only saw me once, are you sure it’s not Holly you actually came to see?” The vulnerability in his voice felt like a gunshot through the heart. Shayne cupped his face softly toward his, sky meeting earth.

Shayne chose his words carefully, feeling a huge make or break moment in their fragile trust. “It’s true that I was attracted to Holly first. But, you know who I fell in love with?” He intertwined his fingers with Damien’s.

“I fell in love with the guy who broke his first stiletto, the guy who complained about his dark five o’clock shadow, the guy who cried while watching The Notebook,” Damien’s face quickly turned red.

“Shut up, it’s not like you didn’t cry either.”

Shayne let out a light chuckle, “I did. Even if I was facing Holly those times, in the end it’s still you underneath. She is an image, but you, you are real – larger than life even.”

He took a deep breath, “I hope it’s not too late to tell this but…I’m in love with you, Damien. Will you give me another chance?” He looked deep into those unforgettable eyes, silently asking for approval.

Time slowed down when Damien closed his eyes and leaned forward, Shayne understood and moved in for a gentle kiss. It was nothing like their previous ones, no smeared lipstick, no frantic touches, no taste of whiskey, just a firm press of their lips.

But it was perfect, just a hint of honey and the vitality of cool spring rain, bearing the promise of growth.

They pull away and Shayne felt a sudden shift in his world, like a muddled pond that settled and turned clear. He never felt lighter, the constant pain in his chest that followed him to LA and back, eased into a pleasantly warm constant beat.

Light pink dusted Damien’s cheeks and he couldn’t suppress a giddy smile, “Well, that certainly felt better than the last time.” Shayne snorts and revels in the fresh atmosphere between them, tender gazes directed at each other.

“Are you all right with starting again?”

“Sure, why not?” Shayne firmly holds both pale hands between his own. “Because this time, we’ll make it real. Just you and I.”

It felt new and nostalgic at the same time, having Damien curled up on his chest, simply talking through the night while lying on the bed. Chaste kisses, animated gestures, and sweet words that eventually turned lethargic as the night went on. Breaths evened out, smiles content within their warm embrace, the distant sound of a familiar song lulling them to sleep.

_It’s been a long time since I came around_

_Been a long time but I’m back in town_

_And this time I’m not leaving without you_

**Author's Note:**

> The next part will feature Damien's point of view :)


End file.
